Sierra Falls (Sierra Falls 1)

He needed to stop going there in his head.

Last night he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d gone there in his head all night, until his stomach was in knots, through the night, until finally he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He’d touched her. He couldn’t help not touching her—he’d had to know what that hair felt like, how those waves might give beneath his fingers.

And once he’d touched her he’d had to touch her again. Her chin. Her arm. He’d had to turn and face the sink, running cold water over his skin to stop the ache.

It’d taken all he had to look casual. To pretend to be easy when all he’d felt was a fist closing around his heart. Pained, wanting her, then guilty because of it. Guilty because of Keri. Because of Damien, Sorrow’s boyfriend, who’d been just in the next room.

He inhaled deeply to gather himself, trying to look more nonchalant than he felt. “Morning, folks. Sorrow, you ready?”

The way she lounged on that barstool—leg swinging, leaning against the counter in a way that pulled her shirt tight. Self-consciousness overwhelmed him. Like a d

amned teenager with a crush, he became overly aware of his approach, of his step. Of where he should look and how broadly he should return her smile. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt…well, since he was a teenager.

It’d been different with his wife. He’d known Keri for years before they hooked up. She worked in the DA’s office, and with his role in the department, they’d moved in the same circles. They’d had a long time in which to get to know each other over coffee, over posttrial beers. By the time he and Keri realized there was a spark between them, he was as comfortable with her as he’d been with his closest friends.

Sorrow, though, she was different. This was different.

He pushed aside the thought. Women like her weren’t for him. Crushes and hope had died with Keri.

Billy leaned on the bar next to her, ignoring the smell of her shampoo. The scent of Sorrow in the morning.

“Good news,” she told him. She was happily working through a stack of pancakes.

Her eyes were bright and her mood contagious. It was like sunshine burning through the cloud over his heart, burning away the shadows. He couldn’t help but forget his dark thoughts and give himself to the moment.

“Sock it to me,” he said, stealing a triangle of her toast. He had to admit—he loved a woman who loved to eat.

“Our cupboards are full. Or rather they will be. No need for us to go shopping after all. ”

Disappointment needled him, and he tamped it down. He told himself he was just concerned for her safety. He was suspicious of all the unusual accidents lately. If he wanted to hang around Sorrow, it was simply that he wanted to keep an eye on things. “That is good news,” he said.

And he tried to believe it. Not having to shop for food meant he’d reclaim several hours from his morning—he should be happy. It was his day off, and there were any number of things he needed to tend to in his personal life.

He just needed to think of them.

She nodded and swallowed. “It means I don’t need to bother you too much this morning. ”

“It wasn’t going to be a bother. ” If the way this disappointment kept surging to the surface was any indication, a shopping trip with Sorrow would’ve been a pleasure. But he was being a fool. He grabbed another slice of toast, and it was too dry in his mouth. “What happened?”

“Damien heard about our troubles when he was here last night. ” Her eyes flicked to his, as she quickly added, “He left pretty much right after he found out. ”

Was she trying to tell him something with that look? Had there been a message in her eyes?

He looked away. Pretty, young women didn’t telegraph hidden messages to men like him. More fool he.

“Damien has some friends,” Sorrow continued, and he could’ve sworn he heard something like guilt in her tone.

Bear interrupted with a smirk, “Some friends?”

“Yeah, okay,” she said flatly, “Damien has a lot of friends. He knows a few restaurant owners—”

“Some as far away as Reno,” Bear boasted.

Billy forced his pleasant expression not to fade. He’d offered his help, but restaurant owners? How could he compete with that? All he had to offer was a buddy who worked as a line cook in Silver City.

Her smile was gone now, her mouth a tight line. “Yes, Dad. Some as far away as Reno. So anyway, apparently any minute now, men will start showing up with food. Enough to tide us over, but not so much that it won’t keep in the regular fridges. ”

Billy said, “Well, that’s wonderful. ” So how come he didn’t feel wonderful? He was disappointed, and the reaction surprised him.